Samantha
We drove past fields and orchards sleeping under winter's cold and through several picturesque villages with cute cottages. I looked at some of the store windows with longing as we passed, wishing that Harry and I were able to go out like a regular couple and browse in the eclectic little shops, then have dinner in a local pub with steamy windows.
I fought the longing back sharply. We were having a weekend together, and that was more than I'd ever hoped for. I should be grateful for what I had.
We reached Lainsworth in the early evening. The house was welcoming despite its stone-clad exterior, and there were low lights burning in each of the front windows as we drove under arching oaks to reach the front door.
"I thought you said the Howards were in London," I said, surprised to see the house all lit up.
"They are, but Simon isn't," Harry said. "He came ahead to get things ready for us."
Harry was out of the car and opening my door before I could make a move. Leaving the luggage behind, he slipped an arm around me and guided me towards the front door, painted a cheerful cherry red.
"I want this to be a wonderful weekend for you—for us," he said. "Anything you want, just let me know."
I was too bedazzled to even reply. Inside the house was warm, with fires in all the fireplaces, and a simple dinner was laid out in one of the drawing rooms.
"You're spoiling me," I said, as Harry took my coat.
"And why shouldn't I?" he countered.
"Because I will just get used to it, and then—"
"And then?" he prompted.
"And then I will have to go back to my real life, where I work in the stables, make soup out of a can for my dinner, and scrub my toilet on weekends," I said.
Harry laughed softly, drawing me into his arms. "You're so romantic, you know that?"
"I sense sarcasm," I said, "but that's the reality of life when you're not royal."
"I've scrubbed toilets too, you know," Harry said, "when I was in the army. I've worn the same fatigues for days at a time and gone without sleep for far too long and then fallen asleep leaning against a wall. And I've cleaned out stalls and cooked my own meals...although not necessarily in that particular order. If you like, I'll cook dinner for you tomorrow night."
"I'll take you up on that offer," I said with a smile.
"I was hoping you might take me up on more than just that offer," he said, lifting my chin for a kiss. "After dinner."
I slid my hands down to his waistband and let my fingers wander up his back, underneath his shirt and sweater. "How about first things first...and dinner after?"
"As you wish, my lady."